Versipellis
by Elliroc
Summary: "We're not stupid, Remus. Well, Peter might be," Sirius glanced sideways at Peter who just glared at him. "But we're all smart enough to figure out when someone disappears every single full moon there's really only one explanation that makes any sense."


**Title: **Versipellis  
><strong>Summary: <strong>"We're not stupid, Remus. Well, Peter might be," Sirius glanced sideways at Peter who just glared at him. "But we're all smart enough to figure out when someone disappears every single full moon there's really only one explanation for it that makes any sense."  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Harry Potter.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This story is written based on a prompt by _Princess Leasha_ who asked for James, Sirius and Peter confronting Remus about his 'furry little problem'.

* * *

><p>"DUCK!"<p>

Remus flattened himself onto the ground, chin hitting the dirt. With his eyes clenched shut he only heard the sound of Sirius's excited whoop as the wind from the passing broom lifted his hair but even if he'd had them open he probably would've only seen grass. A few seconds passed before he cautiously lifted his head. Sirius was on the other side of the field now, flying upside down and almost looking as if he was doing it on purpose.

"What on earth did you do to his broom?" Peter gasped, catching up to Remus and James finally. They'd been chasing Sirius across the castle grounds for nearly ten minutes now, before Sirius (or, more accurately, Sirius's broom) had randomly done a loop-the-loop and almost taken Remus out. James reached down to help pull Remus back to his feet.

"Just a simple hex, it will wear off soon," James laughed. Remus spat out a mouthful of dirt and brushed down the front of his robes, watching as Sirius started hurtling straight up into the air.

"That's if Sirius doesn't fall off and die first," he said.

"Always the optimist, that's our Remus." James slapped him on the back. "Look, he's got it back now." It was true; Sirius had regained control of the broom and was flying back towards them faster than was really safe or necessary. Remus was about to throw himself onto the ground again when Sirius finally slowed down and jumped off onto the grass beside them. He stumbled when he landed, but managed to make it look fairly graceful all the same.

"That was awesome!"

"You're not supposed to think it's awesome," James complained. "What's the point in hexing your broom if you have fun?" But he was grinning. "Almost killed Remus, though."

"Yeah, sorry mate." Sirius shoved Remus's shoulder playfully. "I did say duck!" He grinned and turned to Peter. "Almost killed Pete too, by the looks of it." Peter was still clutching his sides trying to catch his breath from their run but the glare he gave Sirius promised revenge. Sirius would've been scared if he wasn't so amused.

"Come on, we better head back to the castle or we'll miss dinner."

**o o o o o**

Dinner was entertaining. They'd barely sat down when James noticed that Severus Snape, a greasy Slytherin second year who James and Sirius particularly hated, was talking to Lily; that is, James's Lily (at least, James liked to think of her as his Lily). Remus sighed into his roast potatoes. This was going to be fun.

"Snivellus, how lovely to see you," James said, rising from his own chair and crossing over to where Lily was sitting. Sirius noticed what was happened, and – not being one to pass up on a chance to torture Snape – followed. Remus decided he didn't really want his potatoes anyway and stood up too.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked around a mouthful of roast lamb.

"I haven't started my essay for History of Magic," Remus told him, which was true.

"You'll miss out on the cake," Peter told him seriously. "It's chocolate tonight."

The sacrifices Remus made for the sake of his friendship.

"Save me some," he said and once Peter had nodded he made his escape back to the dorms.

**o o o o o**

Remus was lying across his bed, feet up against the headboard. In front of him he had his History of Magic book and a piece of parchment that he was slowly filling with his scratchy handwriting, but his mind wasn't really on the goblin rebellion of 1612. It was full moon in three days, he was going to miss an exam for Transfiguration, and Sirius and James weren't so stupid as to continue to believe him when he said his mother was ill or his dog had died. Remus knew they were going to figure it out eventually. When he'd arrived at Hogwarts he hadn't really planned on avoiding friendships – he'd just assumed he wouldn't make any. It had been a surprise when James and Sirius had started including him in their practical jokes, when Peter had started saving him a spot at breakfast and making sure that he didn't miss out on the chocolate cake at dinner. Remus had been so excited that someone wanted to get to know him, wanted to spend time with him, _liked_ him, that he'd forgotten that people like him couldn't have friends.

Now the excuses all sounded wrong when he said them, packing his trunk as if he was going home seemed like a joke. Missing an exam was hard to explain, unless he said he had come down with something; but even then the others would want to visit him in the Hospital Wing and he'd have to think of a reason why they couldn't. Today, chasing Sirius across the castle grounds, Remus had felt like a normal twelve year old boy. Covered in dirt, his sides hurting from laughing too hard, surrounded by friends.

Friends. Could he call them friends when he lied to them every day? Could he actually pretend that they would stay if they knew? They wouldn't – and he wouldn't blame them. Friends didn't lie to each other, and werewolves didn't have friends. The ink had dried on the end of his quill, but he didn't refresh it.

Remus liked having whatever this was. Even if he couldn't call them friends. It was nice to have someone to elbow in the ribs when a professor said something unintentionally sexual, or to plan elaborate pranks on Slytherins with. It was exhilarating, running through the halls at night under James's invisibility cloak, heart in his mouth, hoping no one would catch them. Even detention was okay when he knew that afterwards they would all laugh together about the reason he got it. But every full moon Remus felt it slip away a little as he told another lie and saw the disbelief reflected back to him.

He gave up on the essay. It was due on Friday anyway, and he'd get an extension. Considering he'd written two sentences in an hour, that was a good thing.

**o o o o o**

The morning of a full moon always began with Remus wishing he was crouched over a toilet bowl. That is, if he wasn't already. Perhaps it was something to do with the pull of the wolf trying to escape, or some sort of chemical alteration under his skin as his transformation grew near, but he figured it was more likely nerves. In a few hours he'd have to tell the others he was ill again, or his mother was, or maybe his father. Perhaps his dog had been stolen by dragons this month, or his pet fish eaten by a unicorn. Maybe he'd try that one, see if it went down any better than his usual evasions. Maybe he wouldn't.

James came in as Remus was brushing his teeth.

"You alright?" He asked, and Remus shook his head. It wasn't hard to pretend to be miserable. He really did want to crawl back under his covers and hide. James looked thoughtful as he left, but Remus was too busy washing his face and pulling himself together to notice.

"Coming to Hogsmeade tonight?" Sirius asked cheerfully as they headed down to breakfast.

"I don't know. I'm not feeling too great." Remus almost felt like they did it on purpose, so he'd be forced to think of something to say.

"You do look a little pale," Sirius noted. "Hope you're not coming down with something again."

Remus knew he wasn't imagining the pointed tone to Sirius's comment, but they'd arrived at class now so he took the chance to avoid replying. It felt like his world was starting to unravel around the edges.

**o o o o o**

The shack was quiet. At least, it would have been, but for the sound of Remus's breath, rushing in and out of his lungs. He was pacing, one paw in front of the other, muscles rippling underneath his fur. Prowling might have been a better term, searching for a way out. This space was too close, and if he'd been able to feel claustrophobic he would have. No sky, no wind, no moon. No way out.

Remus snarled and threw himself at the sturdy wall. His claws caught in the wood and left deep furrows, but it couldn't hold his attention for more than a second. Saliva flew from his open jaws as he spun around again, but there was no prey inside this prison. There was nothing to chase, nothing to kill, and he howled his displeasure at the ceiling where the moon should be.

The wolf knew hunger, the wolf knew pain. It understood pain where it couldn't understand boredom, and when there was nothing else to do it turned on itself. Teeth sank into warm flesh and the pain fuelled the anger as he tore at his own skin. If there was no prey he would be the prey. Blood spilled over the floorboards, filled his mouth with its sharp tang and his nose with its heady scent. The night was young yet, and Remus felt alive through the pain that spread like fire. The sound that was coming from him now wasn't like anything any human or even wolf could have made. A mixture of pain and longing and other emotions that the wolf was too simple to feel and the boy too far gone to understand.

**o o o o o**

Remus pressed his shirt against his bleeding leg. The blood had been matted in with his fur, but when he'd changed back it had started to bleed again and the panic rising in his chest was difficult to quell. His heart was in his throat and he willed it to beat slower, to pump less blood, because the amount of blood covering his fingers and spilling onto the floor made him feel like he was going to throw up. What a wonderful way to die, naked and bloody on the floor of his own personal hell; hands pressed over a wound that he'd made himself, an exercise in futility.

When Madam Pomfrey arrived he was feeling light-headed and disorientated. He had a brief impression of her face, creased with worry, and then a cold goblet was being pressed to his lips. Gentle but firm hands forced him to tip his head back so the steaming liquid could pour down his throat. He gagged at the taste and the thick, gluggy texture but he didn't think to lift his arms to push her away. She was moving about the room, but to him it looked as if she was appearing and disappearing on a whim. Perhaps she was looking for what did this – it was me, he tried to say, but his tongue felt too heavy and he remembered that she knew. Later he'd realise maybe she'd been looking for his clothes, and then he'd be embarrassed that she'd seen him naked, but right now it was all a blur. Thankfully, the blurriness increased quickly and moments after taking the potion he was blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

The next thing he knew was Madam Pomfrey's face hovering over him, as if she was using the Floo Network to talk to him, but there was no fire. It took a few moments for him to realise the head was attached to a body, and she was leaning over him and muttering under her breath as she poked and prodded at him. Remus opened his mouth to tell her he was fine, but he couldn't quite muster the energy. Within moments he was under again.

The third time he became aware of his surroundings he was alone and he hurt. Nothing felt floaty anymore, and he wished there was more of that disorientated numbness and less of this pain. The pain was all he could concentrate on, general aches and pains all over and intense throbbing in his leg. He lifted the blanket to check on it, but the bandage ruined any chance he might have had at surveying the damage and Madam Pomfrey bustled in then and started tutting at him for moving so much. She gave him more of the steaming potion, which he drank willingly even though it tasted worse than the Polyjuice potion he and the others had made in first year, and he fell back into a fitful sleep.

**o o o o o**

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, no, it wasn't. But if it had been, it would have fit Remus's mood perfectly. The bright sunshine spilling in through the windows of the Hospital Wing just seemed to mock him – _look how happy you _could_ be_. That is, if he wasn't stuck in this cardboard bed with a self-inflicted bite out of his right thigh, aching bones and his best friends all looking at him waiting for him to respond to the rather matter-of-fact question they'd just asked.

_Are you a Werewolf?_

Well, yes. Remus didn't say that out loud. Part of him thought it might be worth a shot; just make it all into a joke. They joked a lot, the four of them. Joking was safe, familiar territory. Except, well… there wasn't anything safe or familiar about this.

"It's cool if you are, really." James. Remus would have been more reassured if he'd sounded less like he was asking a question and more like he was making a statement. He was starting to get a headache behind his eye and they were still waiting for him to respond.

"Why would you -"

"Why would we think you're a Werewolf?" Sirius interrupted. "Remus, you disappear every single full moon. Every. Single. One."

"My -"

"Your mother is not ill. Neither are you."

"I'm -"

"You're not here because you're sick."

Remus wondered if they were even going to let him say anything. He didn't feel like a necessary component to this conversation.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about." He raised his voice and spoke over Sirius's interjection. "You've all gone mad." Maybe it would be easier just to tell them, but he couldn't risk losing them. Not that they seemed all that likely to run away screaming at this stage. Remus was confused and not really thinking straight, and the conversation was moving so fast around him that he was having trouble keeping up. If he could have picked a worse moment for this conversation to be taking place… But then again, if he had been thinking straight the only thing running through his brain would have been 'fucking fuck fuck fuck' anyway, so perhaps it was good that he was left floundering instead.

"We're not stupid, Remus. Well, Peter might be," Sirius glanced sideways at Peter who just glared at him. "But we're all smart enough to figure out when someone disappears every single full moon there's really only one explanation for it that makes any sense."

"We did do some reading, just to make sure we weren't wrong. Learnt a lot, really."

"Oh?" Remus wondered where his ability to speak had gone.

"We don't hate you," Sirius sounded more confident about this than James had before. In fact, he didn't sound uncertain at all.

"I haven't even -"

"Remus, shut up." Sirius rolled his eyes. "We weren't really asking. We're just telling you that we know. So you can stop lying to us and pretending. We know how much you hate lying. We're doing you a favour, really."

Remus was silent, staring at each of his friends. They were his best friends. His first ever friends, his only friends, and everything to him. His whole life, he'd longed to have friends just like James, Sirius and Peter, but he never even dreamt he really would. Not until he came to Hogwarts, and even then he'd been sceptical. They did stupid shit together, they laughed and joked and talked about basically anything, and it was good. But throughout all that goodness, always in the back of his mind was this underlying fear that they would find out what he was and leave. He did everything he could think of to make them stay, to stop them from knowing, but they found out anyway.

And they weren't leaving.

"I think he just figured out what's going on," Sirius said cheerfully.

"You really don't care?"

"'course not. You're still Remus," James grinned. "It's not like you're dating a Slytherin, or anything."

"Er, guys, there's something I've been meaning to tell you…" Remus began, and Sirius swatted him as they all broke off into laughter. Perhaps there was something in the idea of making everything into a joke, after all. Remus just wished that he could make everything go back to how it was before this conversation. If only Memory Charms weren't so difficult to perfect.

**o o o o o**

"Sure explains your Boggart," James was saying, as they sat under their usual tree out on the grounds.

"Yeah, always thought that was odd," Sirius agreed. Peter wisely stayed silent. It had taken months before they'd stopped taunting him over what _his_ Boggart had turned into. Remus was pretty sure that was the only reason Sirius and James didn't figure it out back then. He didn't get a chance to respond though, because James had noticed Snape walking across the grass, heading towards the lake, and he was already on his feet. Sirius was close behind him, tossing his hair out of his face. Remus buried his nose into his book, catching his lip between his teeth and trying to pretend he didn't know what was happening.

He'd hoped that now the others knew what he was it would give him more security in their friendship, but that underlying fear of losing his friends was still there, just as strong as always. The only difference was that it wasn't 'if they knew I was a werewolf' anymore. Now it was just a general, all encompassing need to make sure he didn't fuck everything up. The courage he would have needed to call upon to confront James and Sirius about their blatant bullying of Snape was buried far too deep for Remus to reach – some Gryffindor he'd turned out to be. So he sat with his nose buried in his book and listened as James hexed Snape with tarantallegra, and Sirius and Peter laughed beside him.

It wasn't just the bad things that were the same, though. The things he loved about being friends with James, Sirius and Peter continued too. Two days later, Remus found himself cramped in an old storage cupboard, measuring out Billywig stingers for the Babbling Beverage they were brewing, and listening to Sirius swear as the potion in the cauldron spat at him. The resulting chaos in their afternoon classes a week later after they slipped it into the pumpkin juice at lunch was well worth all of the work it had taken to make it. It was all the boys could do not to fall over laughing, and if they got detention for it, it was well earned.

If he was honest, Remus had expected everything would be weird once they knew. Even once he'd finally accepted that they really meant it when they said they were still his friends, he hadn't thought everything would continue like it had been before, especially near full moon. But after the next full moon he woke in his bed in the Hopsital Wing to find a Get Well Card from James, Sirius and Peter waiting for him. _Dear Moony,_ the card began, with _(see what we did there?) _scrawled next to it, and Remus knew that everything was going to be fine.


End file.
